Chapter 60: Attack and Defense

In reality, Sheng Wen was the one standing on the left. He and Guan Miao were both far too well-known to reveal their real faces in a large-scale dungeon like this. Although this instance didn’t impose overly strict conditions, fame drew danger like fattening a pig for slaughter.

That was why both Sheng Wen and Guan Miao had spent points to buy a visual disguise item.

To anyone watching, neither their faces nor their auras looked like their own — what others saw in person and in the livestream was simply a pair of unfamiliar strangers.

Sheng Wen casually slipped his arm around Lin Kuo’s shoulders.

Lin Kuo’s face flushed red immediately. The gesture not only brought back memories of his own vulnerability after the last dungeon ended but was also a little embarrassing with Lin Zhi watching.

Stammering, Lin Kuo said, “Uh… l-let me introduce… this is Sheng Wen, my… boyfriend.”

Sheng Wen’s arm rested easily on Lin Kuo’s shoulder. With a warm smile, he greeted the group: “Sheng Wen.”

Lin Zhi was still too stunned to speak, but Jiang Sheng obediently greeted him: “Hello, Brother Sheng Wen. I’m Jiang Sheng.”

Then Jiang Sheng looked toward the man standing next to Sheng Wen and said: “Hello, Brother.”

Guan Miao also smiled. “Guan Miao.”

Both Lin Zhi and Jiang Sheng recognized Guan Miao. That was when they realized he’d “changed his face.” Guan Miao and Sheng Wen were among the very first batch of elite players in the walled city, and many participants in this Scroll of a Hundred Ghosts dungeon already knew of them. Many had even advanced to higher districts under Guan Miao’s guidance.

Finally recovering from shock, Lin Zhi scratched his head and greeted them, “Brother Sheng Wen, Brother Guan Miao.”

“Hey,” Sheng Wen replied casually.

As the group exchanged greetings, Zhang Mengnan arrived. She came straight over to Lin Kuo and greeted him first: “Boss.”

When she saw the boss standing shoulder-to-shoulder with another man, her expression was no less shocked than Lin Zhi’s.

Soon, members from the other two teams gathered as well. Once everyone was assembled, they planned to enter the large courtyard estate that stood before them.

However, the gates of the courtyard remained closed to participants, so everyone wandered around outside for a while. Strange and vivid murals decorated the courtyard’s walls, which Lin Kuo and his team also studied carefully.

Because their team included a couple, everyone else thoughtfully gave Lin Kuo and Sheng Wen some privacy.

Sheng Wen leaned close to Lin Kuo’s ear, speaking in a low voice to share secret intel:
“Think of the walls as a living scroll of mountains and seas. Our goal is to enter the scrolls, capture the ghosts, and every time we succeed in capturing one, that ghost will vanish from the wall. Teams earn points based on the ghost’s strength. If someone dies inside, the ghost turns grey on the wall and becomes unavailable to others.”

Lin Kuo mulled this over. “So when you said having more people makes winning easier… this is why?”

Sheng Wen’s lips curved slightly. “Of course. Why do you think upper-district players bring lower-district ones here? Even if a lower-district player can’t earn points, their death can seal a sub-instance. There are a hundred ghosts in total. Once a ghost is chosen, it can’t be selected again. The more people we have, the better our chances.”

Lin Kuo gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.

Sheng Wen watched him closely. He’d expected Lin Kuo to frown in distaste, but when he saw no visible reaction, his heart filled with both tenderness and relief. “My boyfriend’s growing up,” Sheng Wen teased softly.

Lin Kuo’s ears reddened. “…I’m twenty-two.”

“I know. Year of the Rabbit. My little Bunny,” Sheng Wen said with a grin.

Lin Kuo shot back, “Sheng the Ox.”

Sheng Wen chuckled. “‘Ox Sheng’ doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Little Ox Sheng,” Lin Kuo countered.

Sheng Wen replied smoothly, “I like Lin Kuo better.”

“…”

Satisfied with teasing him, Sheng Wen’s expression sobered. Though his question was serious, he still couldn’t keep the warmth from his eyes and voice: “When are you planning to give Zhang Yi that notebook?”

As expected, Lin Kuo’s mood dimmed. “Haven’t run into him yet. I’ll see when I do.”

“Alright,” Sheng Wen said simply.

By the time everyone had circled the courtyard and returned to the main gate, it had finally opened.

Inside was a large screen wall, and beyond it lay a grand reception hall.

The Scroll of a Hundred Ghosts dungeon had a maximum capacity of 100 participants, so the hall was designed to be vast. Even with 46 people present, it still felt spacious.

In the center knelt a man in blue robes — the dungeon’s sole NPC. He sat formally on a cushion, head bowed, turning a string of prayer beads as he recited the same rules Sheng Wen had already explained to Lin Kuo.

Most participants listened without surprise; although this was their first time in this dungeon, they’d seen livestreams before and already knew the rules. A few, like Lin Zhi, Jiang Sheng, and Zhang Mengnan, looked utterly confused. Guan Miao quietly explained it to them.

When the robed man finished, he said:
“Will the three initiators step forward.”

Lin Kuo looked at Sheng Wen, who nodded reassuringly.

Lin Kuo, Wang Qing, and Wu Tingting — the three team leaders — stepped into the center of the hall. The robed NPC pulled three sets of prayer beads from his robe:

• The first string held 22 beads, which he handed to Wang Qing.
• The second had 18 beads, which went to Wu Tingting.
• Finally, he handed Lin Kuo a string of 6 beads.

“So long as the beads remain intact, your team remains alive. If they shatter, it signifies death,” the NPC intoned.

The numbers corresponded to each team’s headcount. Every death would shatter a bead, allowing the initiator to monitor their team’s survival.

The NPC finally raised his head and continued, “If all beads break, the team is dissolved, and all points earned are forfeit.”

Nearby, Lin Zhou whispered, still trying to make sense of it: “So… what does that mean exactly?”

Zhang Mengnan thought for a moment and explained, “I think it means if all of us die, we’re scattered, and the points don’t count.”

She glanced at Guan Miao for confirmation, who nodded. “That’s right.”

Lin Zhi frowned. “This rule… feels like a trap.”

Guan Miao just smiled faintly and said nothing. As a system insider, he couldn’t openly comment on the dungeon’s malicious design, but his silence confirmed enough.

Jiang Sheng piped up, “Well, our group’s the smallest. That means we’re the least threatening, right?”

Guan Miao ruffled his hair fondly. “For now, yes. Don’t worry, though. With Brother Sheng Wen here… he’s—”

Sheng Wen gave Guan Miao a look.

Guan Miao shut his mouth.

The NPC then produced a brocade box, opening it slowly to reveal a scroll. Rising to his feet, he unfurled it: written on the scroll were the names of all 46 participants. He hung it prominently in the hall. “When you confirm someone’s death, come here to mark their name.”

For the first time, many upper-district players looked thoughtful, though none voiced their questions aloud.

The NPC added a few logistical details: “Meals will be served here in the main hall. Lodgings are chosen freely. If there are no questions, you may disperse.”

The crowd broke up.

The courtyard was indeed large, easily accommodating all 46 people.

Lin Kuo’s team claimed three rooms:

• Lin Kuo and Sheng Wen shared one,
• Guan Miao and Jiang Sheng another,
• Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan the last.

Once they’d settled, all six regrouped in Lin Kuo’s room.

Guan Miao sketched a quick outline of the murals on the courtyard walls.

“The ghosts are arranged by strength, with the first one, The Slick-Head Ghost, as the most powerful. We won’t bother counting the exact points, but it’s the highest.

“Those at the end are the weakest, probably worth just one point. Since most players here are high-level, they’ll avoid wasting a selection on these low-tier ghosts. Our targets will likely be here—” he circled the middle portion.

“Sheng Wen and Lin Kuo will handle the upper-tier ghosts, Jiang Sheng and I will cover the middle, and Lin Zhi and Zhang Mengnan can handle the weakest.”

Everyone agreed; it was the optimal split.

Guan Miao added, “There’s no strict limit on how many ghosts we can attempt per day, but after every run, we should regroup and verify that all six of us are safe before entering another scroll.”

Lin Zhi caught a subtle implication. “Verify we’re all safe…?”

Guan Miao smiled faintly. “Didn’t want to scare you, but yes—there’s a chance ghosts can follow us out of the scroll.”

Lin Zhi: “…”

Zhang Mengnan: “…”

Jiang Sheng: “…”

Guan Miao continued, “Usually, when a ghost follows a player, it’ll ride their shoulders. If you see someone walking on tiptoe, that means they’re being ridden.”

Lin Zhi shivered and instinctively looked to Lin Kuo—who was whispering quietly with Sheng Wen.

“…Brother, stay alive, please,” Lin Zhi muttered.

Guan Miao’s calm demeanor carried the warmth of polished jade. After giving everyone a moment to adjust, he continued, “The new twist this time is the scroll in the hall. We don’t yet know all its functions. My advice is not to enter the scroll today. Relax, enjoy the scenery. After dinner, explore the courtyard a bit.”

The six agreed to wait until the next day to start ghost hunts.

That evening in the main hall, other teams were already seated. As Lin Kuo’s group entered, muffled laughter rippled through the room, followed by whispers: “Look, those six… Probably the smallest team ever to enter this dungeon. None of them seem that impressive—highest rank’s barely C-tier, their leader’s from B-tier.”

“That’s nothing. Remember when S God soloed the whole dungeon? Took the top ten ghosts by himself.”

“You can’t compare them to S God.”

“Ha, true.”

Lin Kuo glanced at Sheng Wen, who hushed him softly, leaning down to whisper: “They’re underestimating your boyfriend.”

Lin Kuo nodded honestly. “Mm. How do you get so strong when you’re not even that muscular?”

Sheng Wen chuckled. “Not strong, huh?”

He grabbed a chopstick, snapped it cleanly in half with a sharp crack. “Small strength?”

“Oh.” Lin Kuo took two chopsticks and broke them effortlessly.

Finding it amusing, Guan Miao grabbed three and broke them too.

Zhang Mengnan blinked at the impromptu display, then leaned toward Lin Zhi. “What are they doing?”

“Seeing who’s top or bottom,” Lin Zhi replied.

“…And Guan Miao?”

“Uh… maybe it’s contagious?” Lin Zhi guessed.

Jiang Sheng, alarmed, edged farther from Lin Zhi.

Suppressing laughter, Zhang Mengnan whispered, “So, have they figured it out? Who’s top?”

“No need. Obviously my brother’s the top!” Lin Zhi declared proudly.

Zhang Mengnan dared not say it aloud, but she thought Sheng Wen seemed far more dominant.

Seeing doubt in her eyes, Lin Zhi’s competitive streak flared. He suddenly stood, grabbed the entire chopstick holder, and thrust it toward Lin Kuo: “Brother, break all of these.”

“…Uhm,” Lin Kuo murmured.